Do You Remember That?
by manfredbloors
Summary: Every journey has to start somewhere, even if you'd thought it was over. Some journey's just need a restart.
1. Overture and Prologue

A/N - Tom and Derek, because that argument in The Coup was hot, have become a ship. And I will go down with it. Get ready for the insanity...

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The Least Offensive Thing

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Julia is in shock, it doesn't take a doctor or a genius to see it and Tom is at least the latter - he should get a doctorate in writing kick-ass songs but moving on. She won't let him touch the piano, she won't let him sing to her or do any of the things he normally does to cheer her up. He figures that she thinks that he'll judge her if she cries, but he won't, he isn't a dick. She cheers up a little while they brainstorm even more terrible ideas that make him want to pull his hair out, but the smiles aren't her yet, they don't reach her eyes. There aren't even any sassy hair flips when he bitches about Derek or whines about life or work.

Leo stays in his room, by now he'll be asleep, hopefully - poor thing. It's a big shift that she's coming to terms with and Tom knows it, the mother and son with have to deal with everything as it comes. Maybe Frank will come back, maybe he'll do something else; whenever Tom so much as tries to broach the subject he gets looks with very clear meanings: _say either of their names and I will end you._

Toward the end of the evening she looks at him, and then she gets up from the couch, climbs out of his arms and crosses to the window. 'Bombshell', it's all she says and he knows what it is. He smiles. It's a good name, a name to shine in lights and put on posters. A name to grace the billboards and displays of Broadway: Bombshell.

'It's good.' He walks up behind her and crosses his arms around her again like he should and like he has done during tears in the past. 'It's a good title, Julia.'

Now she cries, turns on him and hugs him tight. Holds onto him for dear life like he'll keep her from falling apart. He murmurs little nothings into her hair, tells her it'll be alright in the end.

'He'll come back Julia, he probably just needs a little time.' He says weakly, lacking the conviction himself. 'Just a little time.'

'You think what I did was horrible, don't you?'

Tom looks up at her from the tea he's making and ditches the first answer that springs to mind but she doesn't look likely to blame him for telling the truth, just resigned to it and sad and that look is _so_ not on. 'I don't approve, Julia, but then I never did.' Which is true. 'But that doesn't matter right now, this isn't about what I think or thought. I'm your friend Julia, not your conscience.' He pushes the mug toward her with a small smile. 'Now drink your tea.'

She laughs, small, a little bubble of a laugh still sodden with tears. 'Now you sound like my mother.'

'Hah. God for_bid_.' He crosses to join her at the counter and holds out his hand, which she takes. Nice to see some things haven't changed.

He fixes her with a look. 'It isn't going to be _easy_, for you or Leo or Frank. You will be sad until something happens that makes this whole thing have certainty, and then you might still be sad but you can't let this rule your life, Julia. Forget about it for now, it's just us okay? The Houston-Levitt team who have a _brilliant_ name for their new musical which, by the way, has an _amazing_ score and _brilliant_ lyrics and is so _totally_ going to be a _smash_, and who both need to get some sleep so that they can deal with Eileen and the reptile tomorrow.' He kisses her forehead. 'I'll take the couch.' And now he feels like Yoda. Well versed in the ways of sensei am I.

She looks down at her cup of tea, half gone, and then back to him, red curls all over the place and it's so very tragic. 'You could talk for America, you know that?' She grips his arm to pull herself up and keeps a hold. 'I don't want to be alone, Tom. Not tonight. Just be with me, okay?'

He laughs. 'Ew, sleeping with a _girl_.' Kisses her again. 'Alright.' Another hug and he's getting that she really needs closeness right now. 'Please, no more gross sobbing, this sweater was so expensive.'

Predictably she hits him, but it's a loving slap, it shows she cares. Tom shoves her lightly to let go of him and get into her, probably awful, flannel pyjamas or whatever while he changes. He's just done when hears her singing from upstairs. It's some godawful mournful pop tune and he runs to her to make it stop.

'If we are going to sing our feelings, dear, it will not be with that.' Tough love and sassy hair flips. 'It will be with something classy-' he gets a pillow thrown at him for his trouble but the singing stops and Julia smiles.

She shuffles over on top of the covers and pats the bed next to her. 'Sit down, diva. I need to hug you.'

Rolls his eyes. 'Moi?'

'Yes you, sarcasmo or what, was that t-shirt expensive too?' Julia makes a face and beckons him.

He tugs at it and sighs, 'Don't even. This old thing?' He clambers to sit next to her. Tugs her down so she's leaning into his shoulder. 'Now, manly disney movie fest or whatever's on t.v.?'

'Ugh. Sleep.' She burrows down into the bed and rest her head on his chest. 'Sleep. Goodnight, Tom.' And sassy hair flip. Tom is this far away from shouting eureka or doing something else incredibly stupid.

'Goodnight, sweet Julia!' He kisses her hand. 'Everything'll be clearer in the morning.'

She snuggles a pillow. 'I hope so, Tom. 'night.'

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buzzzzzzzzzzzzz buzzzzzzzzzzzzz buzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Okay, so it's his own damn fault for leaving his phone on vibrate, but who freaking texts in the middle of the night? Who just wakes up and thinks 'Oh hey, everyone else'll be just as awake as I am, maybe I shall text them.'

The text?

**Do we have a title yet?**

The sender?

**Derek Wills**. Do they not sleep in England? Is it against the code of 'I must always be an asshole'? In any case he is not going to take this lying down. So he gets up, checks that Julia is still sleeping like a baby and snatches the offending phone from its place on the table, pulls on his jacket before creeping through the silent home, out the door and the building.

After a little bit of pacing back and forth he drags a hand over his face and pushes a button that will condemn him into uncertainty. He hits call.

'I was expecting a text back, Tom, not a call at this hour.'

Stupid, english drawl. Bastard. 'It is half past twelve, asshole, why are you even awake and texting in the first place?'

There is a pause. 'I asked you the question first.'

Tom glares at a tree. 'No - What are you, five? - We are still talking about what gives you the right to wake me up from pleasant dreams that had nothing to do with you by texting me in the middle of the god damn night!.'

'That I am the Director of this venture gives me the right, Tom, and you know it. So answer the question: do we have a title or _not_?'

'Derek,' he says slowly, 'you may be the director of this musical, against my better judgement I will add, but that does not mean you get to text me, oh at all, let alone in the middle of the night. Unless it has escaped _your_ notice, which I _know_ it hasn't, you and I aren't exactly on the best of terms and as I said to Eileen when she first suggested you I would rather gouge my eyes out than talk to you almost all of the time!'

'You called me.'

'Oh don't _even_. Don't you even... really? Does your maturity, if you ever had any which I highly doubt, completely fail you in the night? Or is this purely for my benefit?'

'You are so very easy to rile up, Tom, but please save us both the misery of prolonging this call and answer the bloody question.'

It doesn't matter how talented Derek is. Because he's going to kill him. As it is one cannot kill via the phone so he does the next best thing. Tom Levitt hangs up.

And he's just about at the door when his phone rings. It might be kind of funny to not answer but he's pretty sure the bastard will keep calling and calling and he will never get any sleep. 'What?'

'Oh so I'm the five year old! You hung up! You hung up purely because you cannot bear to concede that you don't have a title yet! You never cease to amaze me.' Derek actually sounds pissed. Oops... not.

Tom laughs. 'Actually _no_. I hung up because you're an _asshole_ and I have _better_ things to do right now than talk to_ you_. Also we do have a title,_ bitch_. And it's awesome and brilliant and you aren't going to know what it is until we tell _everyone_. Together. Preferably sometime during the day. Goodnight.' Then he makes the mistake of not hanging up, waiting for an angry retort.

Derek just huffs out a laugh and groans.

'You whine so much, it's hateful.'

Hah. 'Yeah, well hate doesn't even begin to cover my feelings for you, asshole. You heartless reptile. Now, if you don't mind, I am cold so I'm going back inside now-'

'Why are you outside? It's the middle of the night.' There is no concern in his voice, dry amusement if anything.

'So I have been telling you.' Tom fiddles with the sleeve of his jacket before blurting out: 'I didn't want to wake Julia. Frank left yesterday and I didn't want to leave her.' Then he realises exactly who he just told and screeches, 'YOU ARE NOT TO REPEAT THAT. TO ANYONE. EVER. Oh god, if she finds out that I told anyone she'll kill me. Twice! Oh God! Please, Derek, don't say anything to her about it and try and be, you know, at least civil. I'm not asking for a miracle but don't be an asshole.' Which would be a miracle.

'Tom,' he sounds kind of exasperated. 'Shut it. I won't do anything. Julia, unlike you, actually likes and appreciates me. I'm not going to just hurt her for the hell of it.'

Aww, baby need appreciation! and 'Oh, like going behind both of us and checking out a new composer/lyricist wasn't hurtful to her too.'

'I thought we needed a different direction.'

He thought, he _thought_! 'You could have just _informed_ us of your opinion in light of which we_ might_ have had a go! Argh, every conversation with you is a _nightmare_. Go to sleep, Derek. You will find out our proposed title with everyone else and you will not, so help me God, bitch or whine unless you are in the majority. Good night.' He hangs up, and takes a breath for the first time in what feels like forever.

And damn he needs to lie down. Tom swears that if Derek does anything to hurt Julia now, even the slightest thing he is going to break something. Probably the bastard's face.

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An hour later and both Tom and Derek are sleeping again, perhaps they'll wake tomorrow and have forgotten, perhaps they'll think the argument was a dream.

In some far part of town Frank sleeps too. Thinks over and over the whys and the whens, the ifs and the buts. Until all that's left is her and how she did this to him.

But for everyone, tomorrow is another day.

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TBC

Reviews are like oxygen to me.


	2. Darth Derek has a Lair

Chapter Two

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'Wakey-wakey Tom.'

The bundle of sleepytime just rolls over and his hair is all over the place and he's adorable but he is not waking up.

She snaps her fingers loudly. 'Tom! If you do not acknowledge me this second I will go to your apartment and steal your penguins. You know I will.'

Julia Houston is waking him up like he's a teenager late for school. This is wrong on so many levels.

'You would not steal my penguins, dear.' Rolls over to face her, dragging his hair out of his eyes - he has to get that cut but it's so damn expressive and he'd miss it, that little lock of hair - so as to better judge how sane she looks in the light of morning. She looks impatient. 'I'm awake.'

'Good. Now get your skinny ass out of bed and try to look respectable.'

Ugh. He doesn't need respectable. Tom Levitt is never not fabulous. Tugs at the sheets.

Wait, what? Narrows his eyes. 'Why?'

Julia gets a shifty look and moves to the door. She looks gorgeous today. Why is she dressed up?

'-i'mgonnamakeyouteanowbye.'

Escapes before he can find something to throw at her. He squints crossly at the space she just vacated, puts his head in his hands and moans softly. Derek Wills.

Fuck it, he can't stay in this bed - which is not his - forever. Also tea. Tea is good.

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She's sitting at the kitchen table with a bowl of cereal and a paper when he ventures forth. There's a cup of steaming tea out for him.

When she notices him she smiles.

'I wasn't sure if you wanted any breakfast. How did you sleep?'

'Fine,' he tells her, skipping the yelling match that occurred in the middle. 'Fine,' serious face 'and how are we this morning?'

''We' are fine.' She waits until he has taken a sip of tea and then edges 'Soooo. Derek called while you were still dead to the world. He wants us to visit him.' She eyes Tom as if it's his fault, which, granted, it might be but she can't know that! 'Should I be worried?'

He reaches over and pats her shoulder. Twice. With extreme condescension.

'What could that thing possibly do to us? Hmm? He tried it and failed, besides he wouldn't've called if it was anything terrible.' Please God don't make him a liar.

He is impossibly cheery this morning. It unnerves her. He has to go and see his arch-nemesis. It's funny, 'cause he has an arch-nemesis.

'I thought everything Derek did was terrible, apart from his work.' she says slyly.

Tom practically writhes.

'I didn't say that. I just said he was a terrible human being. Which is true.' He looks at her from beneath his eye-lashes. 'Isn't it?'

True. 'No. He's just very British and occasionally underhand.'

Tom laughs merrily. 'He's English, dear, and he is always underhand. I mean hello? He is sleeping with Ivy, for crying out loud!' A wicked gleam. 'He wouldn't dare try anything today.'

He finishes the tea and then moving on - before she even has so much as a chance to ask him what the hell's so special about today - he asks, 'So when does Darth Derek want us to enter his lair?' Sassy hair flip.

Julia blinks. 'Oh, ah. As soon as possible, I think. And was that a Star Wars reference'

'Then we could just stay here and chat for a while.' Tom smirks at her. 'A nice long while. And yes, yes it was.' He gestures at himself grandly. 'Cultured.'

'Yeah, right. Come on, Tom. It doesn't do to stoop to people's levels. We are lovely and we're gonna be punctual.'

Tom chuffs a laugh and spins on his heel, with feeling. 'Yes, Julia. We most certainly are lovely but one can't be punctual if one has been given not time to arrive.' The tone is light and he almost sings it.

'We're going.'

'Never said we weren't.'

'Now.'

Pause.

'But Julia!'

She loves him, she does! But he whines.

'But he's awful and I don't want to.'

He's just playing with her now. Fine. Two can play at that game.

She leans into him - getting all up in his grill - and whispers softly, 'I will burn your penguins and break the legs of your piano. Don't think I won't because I will.'

He gasps. 'Stop threatening my penguins. They have done nothing to you. Also you love that piano only slightly less than I do.' sighs. 'I'll come with you but do not expect me to be nice to him.'

Julia just smiles. 'I never expect miracles of you Tom, you just tend to deliver anyway.'

She - she didn't. She's out the door beckoning him.

He looks around wryly. 'Your hopes, dear, they will be dashed so violently.' Grumble grumble.

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When Julia thinks he isn't looking, the corners of her mouth are pulled tight, her eyes are downcast and her brow furrowed. Julia always looks like a happy Mom without a care in the world and every threat of guilt behind a million stone walls. Apart from now.

Tom takes her hand across the cab and draws circles with his thumb. He doesn't agree with cheating, it's a pretty bad thing to do really but she knows that and she has the decency to feel guilty - and he can't be mad at her for that. She doesn't need another person to feel guilty around; she needs a friend. If Derek so much as makes one tiny jibe that might possibly upset he is going to have Words with him. If Derek Wills shows up dead in a ditch tomorrow not a jury in the state would convict him.

As the climb the stairs Julia perks up a little. And by a little he means she puts on a smile. Brave little toaster. He slings his arm around her shoulders and squeezes.

She smiles wordlessly and knocks on the door.

Show time.

Derek opens the door with a smile. What the absolute hell.

Now granted Tom hasn't actually seen Derek for a while but he's pretty sure that the man should have the decency to look a little tired. Just a little. Is it too much to ask? Of course it is.

Julia grabs the man in a hug - 'Hi, darling.' - and ugh, the treachery - she goes on to swan over to the couch - leaving Derek and Tom together. Alone. At the door.

Awkward.

'Good morning, Tom. How'd you sleep?'

It doesn't matter how hot and talented Derek is. He is dead. So dead. His grave has already been dug. They've hired the professional mourners to at least make it look like someone cares that he's dead. So dead.

'Slept like a baby, Derek. How 'bout you?' He pushes past him and follows Julia.

Derek catches his arm and pulls him back.

'What happened to her? She looks so sad.'

Hah. Observant. 'Like you care, Derek.' Pulls at the grip on his arm. 'Let me go, she'll see.'

He is released.

'Thank you. Now, you know about the affair, yes?' Derek nods.'Well so does Frank, and he's gone. Left yesterday.' He turns and fixes the other man with a glare. 'She's fragile, Derek. Just about keeping it together... you hurt her and I will hurt you.'

'Well, that won't be a problem. C'mon. I'll make you both some tea.' He saunters over to his little kitchenette like it ain't no thing and calls back to Tom - still fixed to the floor just inside the doorway - 'Still taking inordinate amounts of sugar, Tom?'

From the couch Julia cackles. Not on. He goes and sits next to her. Sitting with his back straight and his head held high.  
>He ignores her and focuses on Derek, pottering about in the kitchen with mugs and spoons - like that isn't the weirdest thing - and says lightly, 'Three is not inordinate.' Julia scoffs. 'What? It isn't!'<p>

'Kinda is, sweetheart.'

The betrayal.

'The betrayal.' Tom whips his head up 'cause there is no way in hell that that was normal. Derek has his back to them but his shoulders are shaking. Bastard's laughing at his pain.

Eventually they get their tea and mmphh it's good. British tea brewed for an age and then just asdfghjkl.

'So what did you want to see us about, Derek?' Julia is on the ball. Her senses have not been addled by the tea from heaven. He wants to hate Derek, and he usually does, but man makes good tea.

His brain unfuses for a second to listen to the response.

Derek smiles, it's a type three smile - a 'I am so very English and charming and you will do as I say and give me what I want' smile - and leans back in his chair.

'Oh, nothing too ghastly. Just to inquire if you'd got anywhere titles wise?' Julia's face falls a little, it's barely perceptible - naturally they both pick it up. Derek glances to him pointedly.

The eyes say something along the lines of 'what did I do?' To which Tom replies as best he can: 'Long story.'

They wait a minute. Then another and in the years that pass between those minutes Julia doesn't look up from her hands.

Tom sighs.

'Yes, Derek. We do have a title,' and you know it, 'No, Derek, we aren't going to tell you, yet. Everyone is going to find out at the same time.' He smirks. 'Understood?'

Derek isn't paying any attention to him, eyes on Julia. He is concerned.

'Julia, are you alright?'

She doesn't answer him. Off in her own world.

Tom takes her hand. 'Come back to us Julie. Are you there? Sweetheart?'

She looks at him and then her eyes flick to Derek and back.

'I'm so sorry,' she sighs. 'I'm so sorry. I just - I don't know what to do.' And she's on him. Holding on again, for dear life. Derek blanches and gets up to sit on the other side of her. He puts a soothing hand between her shoulder blades and Tom nods at him. Thank you.

'Jules. Julie. Shhh. It'll be okay.'

'How can you know that, Tom? It isn't going to be okay. I cheated and now he's gone and - I've ruined everything. How could I be so stupid?'

'Julia, do you know where Frank is?' It's a simple question but it quite obviously throws her, she lets go of Tom and sits up to better see the grave face of Derek Wills.

'No, I- I tried calling him. He won't answer his phone and I just - he'll be so angry.' She leans back into Tom.

'Have you called around?' Tom's pretty sure that's what he'd have done. 'His friends?'

Derek nods. 'Yeah, perhaps they could help find him.'

'But he'll be so angry.'

Tom brings his arms around her. 'Yes, he will be but you two need to talk. Find out if there's any fixing this.'

'Damage control,' says Derek. 'We'll come with you if we manage to track him down, won't we Tom.'

'Yes.' He looks over to the person he absolutely hates, being so kind to a person he absolutely loves. Mellowed considerably seems more true now. 'Come on Julia, let's fix your make up. Do you have any of Frank's friends in your contacts?'

'I have his sister, but she'll hate me.'

Tom sees another tear fest on the way and circumvents it. 'Which is why Derek will be the one making the calls from his phone. Won't you, Derek?'

Derek holds out his hand for Julia's cell and smiles. 'No-one can possibly hate me,' he says loftily.

Tom snorts. 'Yeah, 'cause that's so true.' Focuses back on Julia and leads her away. 'So Derek Wills just offered to do a nice thing, you know that's pretty awesome!' Tentative humour.

Derek looks at the phone and starts through the contacts list.

'He didn't offer, Tom, you said he would. You volunteered him.'

'It was his idea.'

Derek smiles. I am such a nice guy, he thinks. I am brilliant.

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TBC

PLEASE REVIEW OMG


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